


Last Man Standing

by GenitalGrievous



Category: Speed Racer (2008)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-10
Updated: 2010-03-10
Packaged: 2018-01-16 22:08:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1363459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GenitalGrievous/pseuds/GenitalGrievous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe he can change the WRL. Maybe not. Written as a quick exercise to the song Last Man Standing by Bon Jovi.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last Man Standing

“He’s something.” Jack “Cannonball” Taylor turned to the Grey Ghost. “He’s gotta be, well, the last of his kind you know?”  
“Virtue.” the Grey Ghost spat as he took more than a sip of his whiskey. “He’s like his brother, you know? He’s not in it for money, or fame, or or girls, he just…” he trailed away, and drank more.  
“Do you think it will ever change?” Taylor whirled his barstool to face the bar, away from the crowd that surrounded Speed Racer on the other end of the lounge.   
The Grey Ghost turned to face Taylor reluctantly, his eyes still resting on the youngest driver. “You mean him? It’s hard to say. We all said that--Rex--Was going to be changed by racing, and, well, I guess he was.”  
“And then he died.” Taylor twirled a lone peanut around a napkin with his index finger. “But that’s not what I meant.”  
“You mean the WRL?” the Grey Ghost finally turned away from Speed and signalled to the barkeeper, indicating his empty glass. “No one has ever really--tried I guess.”  
“They have.” Taylor looked up from the nut, “Just--not for a long time.”  
“If it doesn’t--I mean--you know. Do you think there will ever be another?”   
“I think this is it. I think he’s the very end of them. After that--well.” Taylor smiled bitterly. “It’ll be you. And me. And Royalton, Musha, Togokhan--more of the same, right?”  
“I wonder if he knows.” the Grey Ghost took a slow draught of his refilled whiskey glass. “I mean. That--well.”  
“I don’t believe we’re even talking about this.” Taylor mumbled, picking up the peanut and slowly resting it on his tongue.  
The Grey Ghost chuckled. “It’s like we want it.”  
Taylor crunched down on the peanut, and made steady eye contact with the Grey Ghost. “We do. Don’t we?”  
“Yeah, I guess we do.” he drained the whiskey. “When I was a kid--”  
“--You wanted to be a race car driver. I know, I’ve heard it a million times.” Taylor sighed. “I’m going to the locker room. I need to unwind.”  
“I’ll join you, I need--uh--to unwind too.” Slowly, he rested his hand atop Taylor’s and smiled. “The real thing.”  
“Yeah.” Taylor smiled.


End file.
